


Auspicious

by Ailelie



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Audra Phillips pov, Developing Relationship, F/M, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailelie/pseuds/Ailelie
Summary: Eddie lives and Bill calls Audra from the hospital. When she hears the hospital sounds in the background, she decides to fly and meet Bill in Derry. That makes all the difference for their marriage. Then, of course, Audra meets Mike and realizes her and Bill's lives would be better with him in them.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Audra Phillips, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Audra Phillips
Kudos: 11





	Auspicious

**Author's Note:**

> Confession, I've only read fic for this fandom and only Reddie fic at that. I can't do scary movies. (I could barely handle some of the fics!) But then one day I got a plot bunny for Audra/Bill/Mike...out of seemingly nowhere. So, here it is.

_"You come face to face with love, and before the sun sets, you’ve become someone you didn’t used to be. It makes old things new. Makes dead things live. Love makes you into something better." (East of West, issue 3)_

**One.**

Audra watches her husband discuss the history behind his latest book with the apparently long-lost friend he’d introduced as Mike and waits for the jealousy to curl in her stomach and tighten in her throat.

It never comes. Instead she finds herself smiling fondly, grateful her husband has someone else to share his research with, someone who understands in ways she does not. She understands what makes a good character and loves discussing her husband’s with him, just as she shares the mini backstories she creates for each character she portrays. History has never been her interest and she’s always felt so small for not being able to share that passion with Bill.

But Mike does and their voices chase and overlap each other like rain. She rests her chin on one palm and watches them.

**Two.**

Bill called, at least, to say the reunion was being extended. It was a better courtesy than when he’d left without any warning or reason to meet up with people he’d never once mentioned to her before. She nearly hung up on him, but then she heard a muffled announcement and was thrown back to when she’d waited all weekend in a hospital while her mother died. She and Bill had only been dating then. He stayed with her the entire time; that was when she first believed he loved her.

“Are you in a hospital?” she asks, her grip tightening around her phone.

He sighs and she hears the exhaustion and sadness threaded through his breath. “Yeah. One of my friends—” he doesn’t finish the sentence and Audra understands immediately. He’s either waiting for his friend to die or pull through. Saying the former is too painful and the saying the latter feels like testing fate.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can get a flight.”

“You don’t have to come.”

Audra pauses and then shakes her head even though he can’t see it. Her gut says otherwise. Her gut says that either she goes or she loses her husband. “No,” she says, pulling a tablet from her purse. “I do. I want to.”

Bill says nothing and she lets him as she finds the fastest flight to Maine. “I’ll get in at 10:02 this evening,” she says. “To Bangor, right?”

“I’ll pick you up.” Then, in a quieter voice, he adds, “Thank you.”

Audra smiles, relieved. “Always.”

**Three.**

Audra first really talks to Mike after a small non-fight with Bill. She’s standing outside the hospital, fingers digging into her elbows, and furious at Bill for the crock of utter bullshit he tried to unload on her.

Mike is returning from home in fresh clothes and spots her. “Everything all right?” he asks.

“So, did you have convenient amnesia, too, for nearly 30 years?” she snaps, holding onto the least ridiculous part of Bill’s story.

Mike winces. “No, I remembered. Everyone else forgot.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Audra exclaims.

“What did he tell you?” Mike asks, gesturing to a nearby bench.

Audra follows him but doesn’t sit. She paces and recaps her conversation with Bill. She ends her rant asking, “Why is he lying to me?”

“He isn’t.” Mike stands. “I have some papers back at the library that might help, if you want to see.”

“Yes.” She needs to understand and make sense of what Bill and now Mike are insisting happened.

Mike nods and slips out his phone. He types for a minute and then puts it away. “Let’s go.”

At the library, a group of kids greet Mike as “Mr. Mike” and show him the diorama of South Korea they’re working on. Audra glances around the children’s section of the library and notices similar shoebox dioramas decorating the shelves and walls. Each one focuses on a different distant place. Some seem pure fantasy, but others she recognizes.

“Seems like a popular project,” she notes when Mike returns to her.

His cheeks warm. “A few years ago a kid asked why I never traveled. Then, a couple days later, he brought me a Florida diorama. Now I keep supplies on hand.”

“You never left,” Audra says, remembering part of Bill’s story.

“I couldn’t risk it. Come on, the papers I wanted to show you are upstairs.”

She glances back at the shoeboxes, at all the places Mike has never seen in person, and follows him upstairs.

He lays open his research to her, showing the pattern of missing children, the similar stories across time from the extremely few survivors, and crime scene photos from 27 years ago.

“This is ridiculous,” she says, shifting through the mountains of evidence. “How did no one ever notice?” As soon as that question falls from her lips, she realizes that she believes him and, by extension, Bill. Bill’s baby brother was killed by a killer clown that Bill and his friends have now killed, though not without cost. The words are too much altogether, but she believes them.

“It controlled people’s perceptions and messed with their memories,” Mike says simply.

“The amnesia.”

“Exactly.”

Audra shakes her head, stands, and steps away from the research. “Thank you for showing me this.”

“You're welcome.” He holds up his phone. “The others have put in some snack requests. Mind running to the store with me?”

“Not at all.”

When they return to the hospital, each carrying a sack of snacks, Audra hands her bag off to Ben and then goes sit in Bill’s lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first,” she says.

He wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck. Hot tears press against her skin. Audra brushes her fingers back and forth across his heart. “I’ve got you.” She glances up and catches Mike’s eye. He smiles softly at her. She nods slightly and rests her cheek against her husband’s head. “Nothing in the world will tear me away.”

**Four.**

Audra remains in the waiting room while the others visit Eddie. His wife—Myra—is standing against a wall, her face resting in one palm.

“He doesn’t love me anymore,” Myra confessed to Audra earlier. “I’ve tried so hard to be good for him, to remember all his allergies and sensitivities. I feel like I’ve gone half-mad just trying to keep him safe. What kind of wife has to keep her husband safe? But I did it. And then he leaves with almost no warning—after crashing his car—and now he just woke up from a coma and he doesn’t love me. What am I going to do?”

Audra squeezed her elbow, a little surprised by the flood of information she hadn’t requested, and said, “It sounds like this marriage hasn’t been very good for you either.”

Myra burst into tears and Audra retreated.

The tears are quieter now, and Myra seems resigned, though tears continue slipping down her face on occasion. Bill’s friends mostly ignore her.

Audra, having tired of the games of her phone, approaches her again. “How are you doing?”

“How are you doing it?” Myra asks. “Or is your husband not _completely different_ like mine?”

“He is,” Audra admits. He is more burdened in some ways and lighter in others. He also has his ‘Losers’ now, people who know him in ways she envies.

“I just don’t understand what changed. We were going through a rough patch, but this—” she gestures around the hospital. “This is crazy.” Her voice cracks and her eyes begin to glimmer with tears once more. “I feel like Eddie’s angry with me because I expect him to be my husband and not whoever he’s become.”

Audra hums. “What are you going to do?”

Myra looks unseeing across the hospital lobby. “I think I’ll start painting again. I stopped because I read the fumes could set off asthma and Eddie was more important to me.” She laughs, a pained and broken sound. “It turns out—he doesn’t even have asthma.” She slips off her wedding and engagement rings and, turning to Audra, folds both into her hands. “Give these to him for me? He hasn’t mentioned divorce yet, but I know he will. I have a knack for anticipating him, you know? Tell him I won’t fight it and that I’ve gone home. I’ll pack for him and he can pick it all up or pay to have it shipped somewhere, I don’t care.”

Audra’s eyes widen. “I don’t even know him,” he protests.

Myra smiles sadly. “Apparently, neither do I.” She pushes off the wall and walks away.

Bill finds Audra moments later. He frowns at her expression. “What was that?”

Audra shows him the rings. “Myra wants a divorce.”

Bill blinks. “I’ll take you back to Eddie’s room.”

Eddie’s room is small, but private. Beverly, the woman her husband once loved, is sitting on the air conditioner under the window. Richie, the comedian whose heart has already surprised Audra, is sitting in the lone chair next to Eddie’s bed. His hands flutter as he talks as if he’s afraid to be still. The rest are absent—taking showers, getting food, checking in on their lives. Audra’s stomach grumbles, reminding her of dinner.

“Back so soon?” Beverly asks.

“Myra—” Audra catches Eddie’s minute wince as Bill talks “—spoke with her. She has something to pass along.”

“What could she possibly want that—” Richie begins, his volume growing with each word until Eddie quiets him with a single touch.

“What did she want?” Eddie asks.

Audra holds out the rings. “A divorce.”

Edie chuckles sadly. “Beat me again, it seems.” He accepts the rings.

“She said she has a knack for anticipating you?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling down at the rings. “She even beat me to my proposal.” He glances up at Richie. “It wasn’t always bad. We just—”

“—became each other’s nightmares,” Audra finishes, thinking of Myra calling herself ‘half-mad’ and giving up painting.

Eddie sighs. “Put these away for me?” he asks, handing the rings to Richie.

Bill touches Audra’s elbow. “We should go.” She nods and follows him out. “I can’t believe she just left like that.”

“I can.” Bill looks at her sharply and Audra shakes her head. “She didn’t like who she was around him. Then he changed and everything she’d become was for nothing. It’s like paying too much for a dress and then losing the dress.”

Bill raises his eyes at her example and Audra nudges him with her shoulder. “You’re the writer, not me. I guess the other thing was, you were honest with me. Eddie wasn’t with her. You let me in. He didn’t. I can understand her deciding to walk away rather than fight for someone who doesn’t even seem like he wants to won, not by her at least.”

“What about you?” Bill asks quietly.

Audra takes his hand with both of hers. “It’s been a difficult few months and this didn’t help, I admit, but I prefer to fight. You?”

He lifts her hands to his lips and kisses the backs of her knuckles. “Same.”

**Five.**

When Eddie is finally released, they celebrate at the library. Audra watches her husband talk with Mike and doesn’t feel jealous. She’s been jealous of the Losers and how well they all seem to know the parts of Bill she never realized existed before, but Mike helped her understand. Really, she thinks, Mike helped her keep her husband.

The conversation turns to travel plans.

“Our flight is tomorrow afternoon,” Ben says, his arms around Beverly. Beverly leans back against him, seemingly content.

“I’m driving down to Georgia,” Richie shares. The room sombers a bit at that. Stan in Georgia who tried to kill himself, Audra recalls. The group only recently learned their friend had survived his attempt.

Eddie breaks the silence and says he’ll be returning to New York to work through his divorce.

“We’re out tomorrow evening,” Bill adds, reaching out to grab Audra’s hand. “Since we’re all leaving later in the day, why don’t we do brunch in the morning?”

“What about you, Mike?” Ben asks.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Mike says. “Florida, maybe. Somewhere warm.”

Audra thinks of the dioramas decorating the children’s section and says, “You should come with us. L.A. is warm.”

Bill’s hand spasms in her grasp and he looks at her, surprise, awe, and a bit of pleasure in his eyes.

“We have the room,” she adds.

“I don’t have a ticket.”

“That’s easy,” Audra says, flicking away the concern with her free hand.

“She’s right,” Bill says. “Come home with us. If you decide you want to go somewhere else, flights out of L.A. go everywhere.”

“All right,” Mike says, his smile broad and warm.

Audra looks around the room and realizes that the other Losers seem to actually _see_ her now, like she’s become more real to them. She reminds herself that these people are important to Bill and keeps her smile sweet. They’ll get to know her eventually, she decides.

The party begins to unravel. Audra volunteers herself and Bill to help Mike pack. As they start emptying Mike’s closet, she pulls up the airline website on her phone and buys another ticket in first class.

Mike protests when she announces what she’s done, but she waves him off. “From what I understand, your staying here and remembering helped to defeat It and keep my husband alive. This is the least I can do in thanks.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Consider it also a gift for my personal sanity. Bill is still in research mode for his latest book. If you take the seat next to him, I can have a peaceful trip home.”

“Hey!” Bill protests, but Mike laughs.

“Deal.”

Want curls in Audra’s belly. She pastes on a natural smile—refusing to examine the sudden desire summoned by little more than Mike’s smile—and asks if he has more boxes for packing.

She and Bill end up stealing Mike’s bed for the night while he sleeps on his couch, but the apartment is packed up around them and ready to drag out to the post office in the morning for shipping.

Mike had tried to argue for locking the majority in local storage, but Bill had insisted he use their garage instead. “You don’t have to stay with us, but you shouldn’t have to come back to Derry when there’s another perfectly good option.”

He relented and they finished packing.

**Six.**

Someone else may have communicated with her husband and shared the fantasy that grew each day Mike remained slotted neatly into their lives. He’d tried to move out to a hotel after the first night, claiming he didn’t want to intrude on them too long, but both Audra and Bill had waved off his concerns.

“What are we going to do with an empty room?” Audra asked. Of course, it hadn’t been empty in the months leading up to Bill’s reunion. In those months their relationship had been on the rocks as Audra felt like she was giving more to the relationship. She’d been furious, for example, that Bill wouldn’t share anything of meaning from his childhood. Now, though, she understands. They aren’t perfect, but the resentment is gone. Bill is being open with her and she’s listening.

During the day, Bill or she took Mike out to see the L.A. sights. In the evenings, they ate dinner together more often than not and would then play a board game or watch a movie. Mike, they learned, had run a weekly games afternoon for students in Derry. Whenever he mentioned a game, Audra bought it. She told him he was helping her create a games library.

She doesn’t tell him she is trying to create reasons for him to stay.

At night, she rests with Bill’s arm warm and heavy across her waist and plots.

**Seven.**

Audra crafts three plots. She already knows their dynamic together is good. The evenings bickering over a game or choosing a movie are already moving to her list of favorite memories.

The first night they watched a film together, they hadn’t been able to agree at all. Bill and Mike were talking up _The Goonies_ , their voices thick with nostalgia, and she’d felt horribly left out as she’d never seen the movie herself and definitely hadn’t seen it with them.

Then Mike had suggested a newer film and she and Bill exchanged a glance before nascent laughter tugged smiles from their lips and they tripped over each other explaining the absolutely _horrible_ date night when they’d gone to see the movie. Mike’s expression lost some of its life and Audra realized that he was feeling as left out as she had when he and Bill had talked about _The Goonies._ Bill seemed to reach the same realization and suggested they watch something that either all or none of them had seen before. Mike then suggested they each make a list of movies they wanted to see and movies they loved. Based on their lists that night, they watched _The Princess Bride_.

When Audra returned home the next night, Mike had merged their lists into one that included only the overlap among all three of them.

Her first plot is for pairs. She needs to know that they each work in pairs before she says anything to Bill.

Her second plot is for telling Bill and making sure he is on board with her idea. If he isn’t, then that’s it, but given the way he and Mike move in and out of each other’s space, she’s certain they’ve got a shot at this.

Her third plot is for telling Mike. If he is receptive, the third plot is also for kissing him.

If that works, then maybe Audra will get exactly what she’s hoping to achieve: the three of them a _them_.

_Bill and Audra_

She begins with her and Bill. If they aren’t solid, nothing else will work. So, one night, while Bill is getting in a half hour of writing before bed, she mentions that they’ve not had a date night recently. He startles and looks up at her.

“You’re right. We should go out.” His stutter is getting less frequent again. He taps a finger against one of his keys and then neatly lobs a wrench into all of her plans. “I kissed Beverly.”

The moment freezes. Bill is wincing like he hadn’t planned on saying anything, like the words have been pressed up against his teeth for weeks. Audra wants to flee, instead she asks, “Why?”

“Liking Bev was easy back then and I missed that. We’ve not been easy in over a year. I shouldn’t have done it though. I’m sorry.”

Audra wants to run. She forces herself to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Oh.”

Bill babbles explanations, but she cannot make sense of them. She thinks it through—Beverly is dating Ben now; it was only one kiss; she and Bill had been in a bad place; he clung to her in the hospital like she was his safe harbor. She can’t forget or forgive. She holds up her hand, quieting Bill, and tells him this. “But maybe,” she adds, “we can move on. Everything from before I arrived in Derry—we leave that behind and we move on together.”

“Nothing in the world,” Bill answers, agreeing. _Nothing in the world will tear me away._ It had been a sarcastic line once, but then became their touchstone. She can’t remember the last time they’d referenced it before Derry, though.

Bill finishes his writing for the night and Audra looks around online for tickets for their date. Dinner and a show is the cliched first date and, since they’re moving on, she figures it is a good place for them to start.

_Bill and Mike_

“Bill?” Audra calls to her husband, not looking up from her tablet, “Which do you think Mike would appreciate more: a tour of the Queen Mary or a walking tour of the historic buildings downtown?”

Bill pauses, mid-undressing, one sock on and the other off. “Queen Mary, maybe. Why?”

Audra hums and holds up a finger asking for a moment. She clicks back to the Queen Mary webpage and completes the order information. “I just bought the two of you tickets for this weekend.”

“Okay?” Bill says, confused.

Mike is more grateful. He reads over the website information and thanks Audra for her thoughtfulness.

On the day they go, Audra remains at home and waits again for the jealousy. Instead, she is nervous for them and hopeful. She knows they don’t think of this outing as a date, but one day, maybe, if everything works out, they _will._

This is going to work, she thinks.

_Audra and Mike_

Arranging her own time with Mike is the most difficult of the dates. They do not have a shared history and, while they have become friends, they’ve not yet done anything without Bill at least being nearby. Bill has a chapter deadline coming up, though, which gives her the perfect excuse to invite Mike out and let Bill work in the quiet alone.

“I need someone to take this cooking class with me,” she says, showing him the information. “Are you interested?” She found the class while looking up activities for Bill and Mike. It is a one-time, four-hour class in a series focusing on international cuisine. This particular class will make _fabada_ , a bean stew, and includes an Asturian cheese tasting. “I thought it could be fun. A taste of someplace faraway.”

Mike glances up at her then, his eyes wider than before. Audra fights down a blush. “It does sound like fun,” he says. “Thank you.”

“You’re the one doing me a favor,” she says in what she hopes is an appropriately light and teasing tone. Bill’s quick look from where he’s typing across the room tells her she’s failed, however, which is ridiculous. She can act, but Mike is proving to be too much like Bill. She wants to be genuine around him.

Mike drops his gaze back down to the cooking website. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had any Spanish cuisine.”

“Good thing for this class then, right?”

He nods and hands her tablet back to him.

The class is more fun then she’d dreamed. While they cook, Mike recounts stories of learning to cook on the farm where he’d grown up. Once he dropped eggshells into his scrambled eggs. Once he mixed up the sugar and baking soda. “Perhaps I should have dragged Bill here after all,” Audra says as he finishes the story of the time he’d forgotten to boil the noodles for a lasagna and had layered them in the dish uncooked.

Mike chuckles. “I learned from each mistake. I can get by now. How did you learn to cook?”

To her surprise, she tells him. She tells him about mismatched schedules and eating dinner alone, of turning dinner in a drained can of tuna and mustard rather than face the empty table, of trying out recipes because no one was around to say she couldn’t, and of the quiet joy she’d feel when someone ate the food she’d left out. “Cooking was my way of reconnecting with my parents and younger sister, I guess. And, even a basic rice dish is better than tuna straight from the can.”

“That sounds lonely,” he comments.

“Sounds like something we have in common,” she replies, thinking of the 27 years he’d spent in Derry alone.

“I guess so.”

**Eight.**

Mike is leaving. Not yet. Not immediately. But, he has been talking of traveling more and has been pricing flights. Audra has known he would leave, but she isn’t ready for him to go. They aren’t a Them yet. She hasn’t even pitched her idea yet. He can’t go.

“I have a shoot in Washington later this month,” Audra says. “Why don’t you come with me, then? Take more time planning out your itinerary.”

She cannot make him stay. The library of dioramas haunts her any moment she even considers the notion. Mike deserves to see the world. Just. Not yet.

To her relief, he agrees to take more time planning. On the downside, he is more open about his plans and asks her and Bill for ideas. His eventual departure is increasingly difficult to ignore.

She decides to combine her final plots into one.

**Nine.**

“I have an idea,” Audra says, pausing the movie one night. “Hear me out before you say ‘no,’ please.”

Bill and Mike glance at each other but agree. Audra lays out her plan: the three of them as a triad.

Mike tries to let her down easy. “You know I want to travel,” he begins.

“I do,” Audra answers, cutting him off. “But every traveler needs a place to call home. Why can’t that be here? Us?”

Bill leans forward. “If this is about my kiss with—”

“It isn’t,” she interrupts. “I was thinking about this before you said anything to me. I think we could be good together. No, we _are_ good together. I have websites you can read.” She holds out her tablet.

Mike takes it with a smile. “More websites,” he says. She has asked him to read over several lately. He leans over and tilts the screen so that Bill can read alongside him.

“Polyamory?” Bill reads off the screen.

“Please think about it,” Audra says.

“This is important to you?” Bill asks.

“It is.” Too nervous to watch them browse the site, she leaves for another room. She does not pace, but one index finger flutters rapidly against her upper arm and she bounces occasionally lightly on her toes.

After a few minutes, Bill finds her. His expression is so neutral it hurts. “Why are you suggesting this?” he asks, his voice low and quiet.

“He makes you happy,” she says. Bill opens his mouth to protest, but Audra holds up one hand. “Please. That’s what I noticed first. You connect and I thought I’d be jealous, but I wasn’t. Then he helped me understand. He makes me feel steady. I still love you, but I think I could love him, too. I know you already love each other somehow. All of you Losers do. And as for Mike, he was alone too long. He deserves people and a home. Plus, we travel. He wouldn’t have to visit all his dioramas alone.”

“Dioramas?”

“At the library,” Mike answers, entering the room.

Audra nods. “I know how I feel, but this doesn’t have to happen. I just think—” her voice breaks “—don’t you think we could be good together?”

Bill glances at Mike. “I’ve never—”

Mike slips his hands in his back pockets and shrugs. “You didn’t remember anyone.”

Audra catches the implication at the same time Bill says, “You—”

Mike looks down, the color in his cheeks deepening. “Twenty-seven years is a long time.”

“Who?”

Mike raises his gaze and meets Bill’s eyes, steady and sure. Bill’s face breaks open and Audra covers her lips, eyes wide.

Bill turns to Audra. “Do you really want this? I already told you I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to force yourself—”

“Kiss him,” Audra interrupts. “Please.” The room is silent except for their breathing and the slow tick of the hallway clock.

Bill looks to Mike, eyes wild. “Do you—”

“Do you?” Mike echoes, stepping forward. He holds out a hand and, to Audra’s delight, Bill takes it. Mike’s thumb slides back and forth over his knuckles. Bill swallows and raises a hand to cup Mike’s jaw. Mike presses into it, tilting his head _just so_ —Audra stops breathing, afraid to ruin the moment as their lips touch. Bill steps into kiss and Mike wraps his free arm around his waist. Warmth and joy curl like a cat inside Audra.

They pull back. Bill’s face is a strawberry as he lowers his hand from Mike’s face. Mike gently pulls his arm free from Bill’s side. They both turn to Audra. Mike holds out a hand to her. She gladly takes it and steps into their embrace. Bill presses a kiss against her temple and Mike to her wrist. She can feel her pulse fluttering like a hummingbird against his lips before he lets go of her hand and instead wraps his arm around her.

“So, can we try?” she asks.

Bill’s laughter is a rumble against her side and a warm breath against her ear. “I’m in. Mike?”

“We’ll try.”

Audra savors the warmth. The relationship will not always be this easy, she knows, but this seems like an auspicious beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> So, a smidge of DVD commentary:
> 
> (1) Myra: I wanted Myra and her relationship with Eddie to be a contrast for Audra and Bill. I also wanted to write Myra so that she could see herself entirely in the right, while still hinting at her issues. For example, she dumps everything on Audra (a manipulation tactic) and talks about how she had to 'protect' Eddie. There's also the painting thing--she had more options between paint around Eddie and stop painting entirely. Audra does see her as sympathetic, but Audra is also identifying with her situation.
> 
> (2) Polyamory: Adding a person to a struggling relationship does not fix the relationship. This is why I spend so much time on Bill and Audra and why Audra knows their relationship needs to be in a better place before anything else. 
> 
> (3) What happens next: Mike travels, always returning home to Bill and Audra between trips. Their relationship is doing all right, but isn't as deep as any of them would like. Then COVID-19 hits and the three of them are in lockdown together. They end up talking.


End file.
